


Change your ticket

by Allegra_Soleil



Series: Tumblr requests and imagines [13]
Category: British Actor RPF, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, PWP without Porn, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Possessive Peter Parker, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 21:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegra_Soleil/pseuds/Allegra_Soleil
Summary: Dating the son of Tony stark is hard, your only chance at a normal life is to keep it secret.But Peter is tired of hiding...





	Change your ticket

You stood there, half naked in the luxurious hotel room, jeans in hand, staring pensively out the massive window, down at the city streets already buzzing with movement. London was always busy, no matter what time of the day, people always coming and going, always in a hurry to get somewhere.

You were supposed to be in a hurry too, your flight leaving in less than two hours, but it was always hard for you to leave _him_. Him and his warm eyes, million dollar smile, boyish laugh. Him and the way he kissed you, addictive and all consuming. Him and his way of making you feel like you were the only two people in the world…

As if summoned by your thoughts, strong, _strong_ arms wrapped themselves around your waist from behind. He pulled you close, the hard planes of his chest pressed against your back, chin resting on your shoulder. 

“I hate it when you get dress,” He mumbled, voice hoarse from sleeping, taking the offending garment from your hands and tossing it aside “it means you’re leaving, and I hate it when you leave”

You sighed, you hated it too.

“I know, but I have a plane to catch. And I’m already running late, I’m sorry Pete…” You tried to step out of his embrace, but he tightened his hold.

“You don’t have to be at work until Monday” Peter pointed out, “And I don't have to get back at SI until I want to... Don't leave me all alone in this room. Stay the weekend, stay with me, please” He whispered the last word against the delicate skin of of your neck, “Let me change your ticket home…”

You melted into him, trying to keep your head as clear as possible, as he sucked bruises down your neck.

“And when do you suggest I should be leaving?”

“Monday, about 5am.”

You chuckled,

“To be such a genius, you are really bad at math! If I were to leave then, I'd be arriving at work like, four hours late…”

“Not if we take the Stark Jet…” Peter sensed you tense against him, so he doubled up his ministrations, using the hand not busy holding you to him to push open the lapels of your hotel robe, exposing your breasts and starting to massage them the way he knew always made you weak in the knees.

“The press would have a field trip” Your attempt at protesting came out shaky and breathless, “I can already see the headlines… ‘Peter Stark and mysterious girl, arriving together at the airport'…”

“You said it yourself…” He reminded you, as his other hand made its way up the inside of your thighs, higher and higher, to where you were already hot and wet for him. “It’s hard to keep it secret…”

He grabbed your hips under the bathrobe, possessively, pressing you to him, and you could feel him, hard and huge, against your lower back, as his other hand rolled your nipple between his fingers. A little whimper left your lips, unbidden and you felt his smile against your naked shoulder: He had already won.

His hand found your damp underwear, hooking his fingers on the elastic and tugging down. You stepped out of it as soon as it fell to your ankles, obediently, without even having to be told to. Peter rewarded your submissiveness letting one of his fingertips enter your slit, collecting some of the moisture there, only to take it out and press it on your clit, rubbing it in perfect, maddening circles, designed to drive you wild in the shortest amount of time. He grabbed your chin with his free hand, softly turning your head to capture your lips. You felt his hard cock slip inside you easily, so easily. It was a perfect fit, as if your whole body had been created especially for that: for taking his cock, anyway he wanted to give it to you. He swallowed your moans as he speared you open, inch by delicious inch.

“Put your hands on the glass” He commanded when he finally broke the kiss to let you breathe.

You froze. You weren’t that high up, Only a handful of floors above the crowded street. If anyone looked up, they would be able to see you.

“Peter… we can’t…”

He bit down hard on your neck, as he slowly started sliding his cock in and out of you.

“Tell me again what I can and can’t do, pretty girl” He whispered darkly, placing a soothing kiss on the brand new bite mark, withdrawing his hardness almost all the way out. When he returned, he only gave you the tip, before withdrawing again.

He kept on fucking you like that, shallow and slow until you finally gave in, leaning fowards and bracing your hands on the glass, offering yourself up to him. He groaned. Gods, how he wanted to rip that robe off your body, see himself disappear inside of you… instead, he made sure the robe was still covering your front, snaking an arm across your breasts for good measure. Then and only then did he pick up his rhythm. Harder, faster, deeper. This wasn’t just fucking, this was _owning_. He was staking a claim on you, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to resist.

“See, baby? There’s nothing to be afraid of, I'll always take care of you” He promised, his soft tone a stark contrast to his merciless thrusts, shoving you against the window until you were trapped between the cold glass and his hot body.

“They… they could still…see”

“Let them” he growled, fingertips digging into your hipbone, pounding into you harder, “let them see who you belong to… who’s the only one who gets to fuck you like this, the only one who makes you come…”

“Fuck!” His words went straight to your center, sending shivers down your spine.

“You like that, don’t you?” Peter breathed hot on your ear, “I like it too, want all the world to know you’re mine, pretty girl”

Despite his words, as soon as he noticed someone on the sidewalk looking up at the both of you, he gathered you in his arms and turn around, throwing you on the unmade bed. You whined at the loss of his cock, at the emptiness in your cunt, muscles pitifully clenching around nothing. But he was on you in a second, tearing open your robe, taking everything in, from the pretty, purple marks he had left on your neck and your shoulder, to the blush on your chest, to your gorgeous tits heaving with every ragged breath, all the way down to where you were pink and glistening and open for him.

“So god-damned beautiful…” you heard his amazed whisper, as he covered you with his body, miles of naked skin against yours. Positioning your leg over his shoulder, he sank into you again, until his hips rested on yours, pubic bone crushing your clit. You didn’t even know how he was so deep inside you, touching, filling places you didn’t know that existed.

He stablished a punishing rhythm, fucking you into the mattress, breathing heavily, telling you how good you felt, how perfect you fitted together… He was everywhere, above you and inside you, his sweet, filthy words and moans were everything you heard, his scent -expensive perfume and sweat and sex- everything you wanted to breath ever again, his thick hard cock pumping into you over and over again, everything you wanted to feel. You were lost in him, drowning in him.

And somehow you still wanted more. You met him thrust for thrust, trying to get him even farther into you, fingers clawing at his back, teeth latching on his shoulder.

“This is it…” He was saying, delirious as you, “this is what I was born to do… give you my cock… give you my come… take it… _take it_” 

“Peter!”

“Yes! That’s it, pretty girl… scream my name, come for me… Let them hear who you’re coming for…”

And you did: You came, crying out his name, squeezing his cock, and it was all it took for him to release his load in you, screaming out yours.

He rolled the both of you over, making sure you were still connected, so you were on top of him, resting on his chest as your heartbeats started slowing down, returning to normal.

“Would it ready be that bad?” he questioned, timidly, vulnerably, after a couple of minutes, “If people knew we’re dating?”

How was it even possible that this sex God that had fucked your brains out just a few moments ago, was the same person as this shy schoolboy underneath you? How was it possible that a Stark, one of the most powerful people in the whole world, still wore his heart on his sleeve, still remained pure?

You leaned back to look into his eyes, big, and brow and innocent, and the words died in your throat: ‘_It would be terrible, I would never be my own person again. I would never get to be recognized by my own accomplishments, or my own talent. I would forever on be just 'Peter Stark's girlfriend'. Your fangirls would come after me, the tabloids would never leave me alone’. My life as I know it would be over…'_

_“Nah, it wouldn’t” You lied. His answering smile, big and boyish as he tug you to his lips, into a breathtaking kiss, was worth it._

Your life as you knew it was over, but _he was worth it_.


End file.
